Chapter Thirteen

Assessing the contents of my mud-soaked backpack spread out on the wool oriental rug of the seating area all around me, I let out a heavy sigh. It's not as bad as I thought, but not as good as I hoped, either.

The extra hoodie I packed is sopping wet. As are the tent, inflatable sleeping pad and pillow, camera and recording gear, and pretty much everything else that was packed in the top half of the bag. My sleeping bag is thankfully dry and currently the only thing partially covering my nakedness.

All of my grimy, wet clothing is draped on whatever I could find nearby to dry overnight. The weatherproof two-in-one small lantern and bug zapper are on the fancy leather top table, decently illuminating the surrounding space.

Sitting with my legs crossed on the floor, I released a shaky breath, bringing a pair of metal tweezers to my upper arm towards the jagged gash across my skin. Once fully undressed, I inspected myself from head to toe to the best of my ability. My body is covered with dirt, superficial cuts, scrapes, and bruises. Insignificant injuries that will heal within a few days, likely without scaring or leaving permanent marks.

Raking my arm across the tree earlier by accident while running for my life has unfortunately caused significant injury. It's severe enough to require stitches and probably a week's dose of antibiotics as a precaution to prevent infection. Of which I have neither. There's also a sizable chunk of wood lodged in the wound that needs to be removed before I can begin to entertain the delightful idea of cleaning and disinfecting it.

Sticking a stripe of leather between my teeth that I found on a workbench and rolled up tightly in the shape of a tube as a makeshift bite bar, I clamp down, preparing for the intense pain I am about to endure.

“Come on, Leslie, stop being a chicken shit and just get this over with!” I grit out muffled words of encouragement to myself around the bite bar. The leather feels course against my tongue and tastes just like it smells with a salty tinge. It's an unpleasant sensation I wish to never experience again.

Gripping the end of the tweezers firmly around the chunk of wood embedded in my arm, I hold my breath and count to three in my head. One. Two. Three! —Yank!

“Owwwwww!” I cried out, spitting the rolled tube of leather from my mouth. Gasping, I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my other hand. I inspected the bloody chunk of wood pinched in the tweezers in my trembling hand, which was over an inch in length.

A fresh, hot stream of blood dribbled down my arm from the hole where the wood was lodged in it. Before it drips all over my sleeping bag or the rug I'm sitting on, I wipe it away with a wad of gauze from the first aid kit. Clamping my hand tight over the bundle of gauze on my arm to apply pressure, I hissed in response to the searing pain. Holy shit that hurts!

Fighting back a wave of nausea, I inhaled slowly through my nose and exhaled out of my mouth until the sensation subsided. I desperately need to eat and get fluids into my system before I become even more dehydrated and risk passing out. But first I'll need to sanitize and attempt to close the wound on my arm. I've cut several pieces of medical tape in the shape to create a butterfly stitch.

Placing the rolled leather strip back in my mouth, I sucked in some quick breaths and sprayed peroxide onto my wound, which bubbled profusely on contact. That didn't hurt nearly as badly as I thought it would. Thank God for little blessings because what I am about to attempt next is going to hurt like a bitch. Almost done Leslie... Whatever you do, do NOT pass out!

Squeezing the jagged cut together the best I can with one trembling hand while trying to adhere the butterfly stitch proves to be nearly impossible and agonizing. Sweat beads across my brow as I carefully placed the last strip of a butterfly stitch over the seam of the bloody wound. It's still bleeding a little, but no longer gaping open on the side of my arm.

Despite my best efforts to steady my breathing and remain calm, my stomach lurches abruptly, flooding my mouth with acrid bile. Jumping up off the rug of the seating area, I sprint away to the opposite corner of the basement and vomited what little contents were in my stomach on the stone brick floor. Wiping the back of my hand over my mouth, I stumbled back towards my makeshift indoor campsite, feeling dizzy and weak in the knees.

I finished with bandaging and securing my arm once the light-headiness subsided. Deciding to take a few sips of water from the hydration bladder to see if it settles or comes right back up, the cool relief it offers is immensely appreciated. I'll wait until morning, however, before attempting to eat.

Pushing the two leather padded armchairs together so they're directly across from and facing each other as a make-shift bed which will be far more comfortable than sleeping on the hard stone floor. Wiggling back into my sleeping bag, I prop my legs up on the other chair and shift around until I'm settled and get as comfortable as my battered body and aching head will tolerate. Becoming stranded by a rainstorm and spending the night in a creepy abandoned mansion is not at all how I anticipated this hiking day trip to end up. One thing is for certain, this is the last solo hike into the middle of nowhere I'll ever do again. Kyra is coming with me next time, even if I have to drag her with me by the ankles.

Kyra is not fond of the outdoors and would much rather spend her free time getting her nails done or reading another smutty novel that she tries to convince everyone are romance books. Sure they are doll face... Everyone knows all the lovey-dovey romance novels have a full page of trigger warnings at the beginning of them.

Guilt pricks at my heart thinking of Kyra. She is probably worried sick due to never hearing from me earlier and updating her about what trails I was hiking or where I ended up at by the end of the day. I would have texted her on the bus before arriving at the park this morning if I knew then that there wasn't good cell service out here. She must be especially worried because of the reason I came out here alone today of all days.

Today is the day that Katie Connelly was released from prison after serving barely two of her five-year sentencing. I didn't want to be anywhere near civilization or take the chance of seeing her at all today.

Huffing sharply at my wandering thoughts, I trailed the tip of my index finger along the buttery smooth leather padding of the armchair's backrest. Scrunching my nose, I wondered how it was possible for the chairs to seem like they were in practically brand-new condition? The style of the chairs is old, antique even, and they are beautifully crafted. But there are no visible signs of aging or wear and tear from regular use. So far, what little I've seen of this abandoned mansion is at complete odds with every other abandoned building I've been in.

In fact, I haven't seen a single rodent or critter that's darted out from underneath something and practically given me a heart attack or seen the usual rows of spiderwebs hanging from the ceiling that are so thick and old, they look like gauze drapes that I normally find in abandoned buildings. For a moment, dread grips me like a vice, with the possibility that this building isn't actually abandoned and maybe someone lives here. Was that the source of the flickering light I saw in the woods earlier? That thought was quickly tossed aside because if that was the case, the noises I made by kicking in a window aloud with my own cries and outburst from dressing my wounds would undoubtedly have been heard.

Curled up between the two chairs with my face barely sticking out of my sleeping bag, my eyelids feel weighted with exhaustion and the comfort of finally being warm. The small LED lantern is in the dimmest mode, sitting on the table beside me casting a soft warm light. I usually sleep best in pitch black darkness, but am not brave or crazy enough to sleep without a light turned on while I'm inside this abandoned building at night. The last thing I remember doing before passing out for the night is checking my phone for any signal, which there is still none, and the current time, now ten minutes to midnight.